The Lord and Lady were an adored couple. The Lord was a dashing young man who assumed his father’s estate at the tender age of twenty. The Lady – a cousin of the king – was a constant champion for those in need. After three years their marriage bore fruit in the form of a son. The Little Lord had his father’s warm eyes and his mother’s fair hair. He was the pride and joy of his parent’s as well as the staff of The Halls where they called home.
It was a fine evening in the kingdom of Elgany, cloaked in starlight. A warm breeze drew new parents outdoors.
“A nice walk will do us all good,” said the Lady as she laid her infant into a silver pram brought to her by one of the maid servants.
The Little Lord smiled as the maid tickled the corner of his lips as she laid him gently in his transport.
“Of course, darling,” agreed the Lord. “A fine evening it is indeed.”
The Lord’s own aide – Jean – held an umbrella whilst he waited on the Lord loosening his collar.
“It looks like there may be a little rain, my lord,” he said.
The Lord accepted the umbrella. The Lady kissed Jean’s cheek. He pulled the door open for the family.
“Do be safe,” he warned. “I have heard rumours of a lot of robberies lately.”
The Lord, Lady and the Little Lord wandered into the night.
The kingdom of Elgany was a wealthy land located to the warm south. As wealthy as it was the coin was not evenly spread. Those who were rich were outrageously so. Those who were poor had nothing but the rags on their back and what provisions they could steal. The great divide caused by Elgany’s legendary treasury brewed a threat underneath the beautiful land.
The Lord and Lady strolled along the banks of the Chessy river which ran through the centre of Elgany and split the two fractions of society. The wealthy lived to the north, within the reach of the King Benjamin’s great palace. The poor lived to the south in an area known as the Derremont.
The path the followed began to climb higher and further away from the river’s edge. The trees that lined the pathway began to thicken. The Lord began to slow. The Lady followed. The Little Lord was fast asleep. His small lips twitched.
The Lord and Lady could sense some danger. They shouldn’t have strayed so far away from their home. The Lord turned. The Lady clutched the pram carrying her son with an iron grip. There was a rustling in the trees. The Lord pushed his family behind him. A man in tattered clothes came stumbling out.
“Coin?” he asked.
The Lord reached inside his pocket for some gold for the wretched beggar. His concentration was stolen for a few moments. More bodies emerged from the trees. The Lord felt a sharp pain as an iron pole was smashed against his face. His skull underneath cracked. The Lady shrieked as she watched her husband fall to the ground under a hail of kicks and punches.
She felt arms wrap around her waist. She was lifted away. Her long, slim legs kicked out. The pram rolled away from her and tipped over the edge of hill. As the Little Lord, still asleep, tumbled towards to river the Lord and Lady disappeared into the night, never to be seen again.
The problems are just beginning for the kingdom of Elgany. King Benjamin is in desperate need of help. His life and the life of his family is in danger. Check out FALL TO RUINS for more.
Politics, Intrigue, witchcraft and curses plague Vivika Widow’s fairy tale world of Red Snow.
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Since boyhood I have enjoyed taking the horses and hounds into Mendelov woods. The bounty of animals to hunt there is wide and varied. It is a tradition passed to me by my father that the meat and fur we find there be shared among the people as much as possible. The nights can be long and cold so the kingdom appreciates the warmth.
Today was different though. There were scarcely any animals to be found save one rabbit which the hounds slaughtered for their own supper. There was a fire in the distance. Some celebration of sorts seemed to be happening in the nearby village. Singing and chanting filled the air. I had just about given up hope of ever finding a deer or elk. The noise had most likely scared them off. I was preparing to turn away when I stumbled across a clearance. My bow was prepared. My straining arms had all but fired a shot. I was startled. Before me was the most beautiful woman my eyes had ever beheld. She was seated upon a white horse. Her long black locks were so dark they almost shone blue in the fading light. Her skin was as white as the freshly fallen snow.
“Aren’t you frightened?” she asked me. Why, in all my heart and soul, would I be frightened by an image so fair? That was when she did the strangest thing. She threw to me a trinket, a macabre symbol. I held the skull of a cat in my hands.
“It will help aid success in your hunts,” she explained. Her voice trailed from her lips like fine silk threads.
Her name was Francesca. She was from a village far from here but I would scour the known map to find her again. I know nothing of this woman and yet I know I will have no other as my queen. I can’t erase her presence from my mind, nor her voice from my ears. I can’t explain it. We have met only once and yet I will offer her everything I have.
It has been done. I have left it all behind. The last sight I had of my kin was of them burning, begging for the pain to be ended. Even after it all those who could still pleaded for me to stay with them.
The man with the black eyes still claimed be me to as his love until I removed his heart from his chest. The blood was still warm as I devoured it. Great was my fury that they tried to stop me and greater was my horror at what the love of Roman has made me see.
The eternal child, was the last to speak. A curse she warned me of. That was laughable. Her power could never match mine for I was Queen of our people and none of them could match me. She quipped about a plague that would follow me to my new land and infect all those who crossed my path. My husband would be driven insane as images of my deeds flooded his fragile mind. Any children produced from the marriage would suffer from cradle until they begged for death. The girl doesn’t frighten me.
The village was reduced to ashes in my wake. The evil of its people banished. Annabelle followed me. My first reaction was to kill her too. She stared at me with those pitiful green eyes of hers. I’m not one to hold sympathy but she had been loyal to me. She is the only one who could rival me and yet she is too dim to realise.
On our way to kingdom, I on horseback, she on foot beside me, we came across one of the strangest creatures known in my black circles. We were met by a Hangram. It was creeping to the water, gasping for whatever pity the world could spare it. They are fierce yet wretched creatures. It’s finger tips flamed with the heat of redemption.
Annabelle and I knew the Hangram immediately but a ‘dweller’ may have been alarmed. Not many are seen by the dweller folk and fewer leave the unfortunate alive to tell the tale. It looked up at us from its contemplation over life and death. It approached. It recognised the blackness within me. It had softened since meeting Roman but still burned in my chest. Hanram are drawn to malevolence like thirsty men to a pond.
“You are evil, quite unlike any I have known and yet you roam this land without hinderance. Today is the day you answer for your evil,” said the creature.
“I am sorry for all I have committed!” I said knowing the proper way to address a Hangram.
“I’m not,” Annabelle interjected.
The flames from the Hangram raged. It’s eyes began to glow. Annabelle showed no fear. Truthfully she had little patience for such creatures and I wished to be on my way.
“Francesca!” the Hangram raged. “There is a special place in Hell reserved for you.”
“If you are waiting on my repentance I will not give it to you,” I told it.
The Hangram closed in on us. “I don’t expect contrition from the likes of you.” It’s burned face contorted into an unsettling smile. “You will have to find comfort on a bed of blades if you do not appease your conscience.”
This particular Hangram was not to be fooled. It knew me, although in its form I couldn’t quite place the haggard frame. I had seen so many Hangram over the years. “The kingdom do well for you,” it said. “The King’s love will save you but only if you accept the punishment you deserve. End your life here and now, save the kingdom and the generations to follow. There is not a sin so great that a single act of selfless sacrifice can’t save you from,”
Before I could make my response Annabelle stepped forward. She threw dust at the Hangram’s feet. The Hangram emitted a high pitched, pained shriek. The form began change in a swirl of black and red energy. The colours cleared. The body of a little boy of nine years old lay where the Hangram had been. I remembered him. His name was Dale and he had come from a village, deep in the woods. My brother Julian loved to toy with Hangram. There were countless of them wandering the land because of him. The soul purpose of these creatures was to seek out sin and evil and vanquish it. My people would absorb the energy left behind, strengthening our own macarbe magic. This was our way. When the Hangram had fulfilled its duty it would be disposed of. Formidable to the ‘dwellers’ but a mere pet – a blood hound in many ways – to us. To create a Hangram required the body of an innocent, someone who had led a pure life. This was often difficult to find in an adult so most of the time children served the purpose. Julian sought them out like an avid hunter. With his handsome face and bright, kindly eyes they flocked to him. Dale had been one such trusting soul.
Annabelle removed a dagger from her boot. She meant to cut his throat while he lay asleep on the forest floor.
“No wait,” I stopped her. I had been thinking of what the Hangram had said. I left him. When he awoke from his slumber he would have enough provisions to keep him until he found a way back to his family. When I left Vorelia Julian had burned with all the others so Dale needn’t fear him any more.
So here I am in the arms of the King, in the beautiful kingdom. The curse and all the others have been left behind. I will defy them, to be happy, to live.
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